I found this small ring of flowers in a field near the malecon when I took Zoe for her first walk to see the sunset. Thanks to Cee and Sam for identifying this flower as Prairie Verbena for me!!!
For Cee’s FOTD
Cryogenic Ponderings
I hear that they’re researching cryogenic preservation,
and I admit I view it with a certain hesitation.
I’m drawn to such longevity, but must admit I worry
about what aftereffects such a heedless act might curry.
As wily as I now may be, as cunning and as clever,
will irresistible qualities remain with me forever?
Will I be packed with garlic to keep me fresh and bugless?
Will I still be so sexy after eons going hugless?
Can minds be kept as fresh as flesh? Can kind hearts be conserved?
Can intellect and soul be saved and memory preserved?
What good will body do one in a thousand years or more
if they can not conserve those things we hold here in our core?
Prompt words today are drawn, irresistible, wily, garlic and cryogenic.
Image by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash.
Zoe’s never been outside when I’ve been swimming before, so she kept me company. And did a little gardening at the same time. While we were conversing, I held her for awhile and dipped her in the pool, which seemed not to bother her at all. I then held my hands under her and she swam a couple of strokes to the edge of the pool and pulled herself out. I helped a bit. She was too young before but soon I want to try her for a bit longer distance to be sure she knows how to get out of the pool in an emergency. I don’t leave her out in that area when I’m gone––only when I’m here within eyeshot and she’s with the older dogs. She now sometimes sleeps with them in “their” room as well.
Click on photos to enlarge.
The white paint on the tree is to protect it from insects. The art is just to express true tree love!!!
Not Missin’ Dissin’
I’m inclined to winnow out
friends who grouse and whine and pout.
I prefer to share my housing
with companions much more rousing.
It’s not that I’m beyond reproach,
for my mood’s been known to encroach
upon the moods of those around me,
yet, within reason, I surround me
with folks of a happier bent
who, if they rail and curse and vent,
do so at a minimum
and once they’ve finished feeling glum,
do not make their own frustration
part of my reeducation.
One time or two I’ll gladly listen
to your pointless constant dissin’.
But if you’re gloomy day and night,
kindly grant me a respite.
Put my phone number on hold
if you just wish to bitch and scold.
You can always reinstall
my number when you’ve cured y’all
of your pointless railing at
the traffic, neighbors or the cat.
Fair weather friend? Indeed, I’m not.
I’ll soothe your brow and stir your pot,
but I will not be joining thee
in the quagmire of your misery.
Prompt words today are reinstall, reproach, frustration, winnow and housing. Image by Nik Shuliahin on Unsplash.
The Course of True Love
My induction to your heart was met with brackish tears
intermingled, yours and mine, as though we both had fears.
Would our love form a hybrid, jubilant and true,
or would there be conditions, demands and counting coup?
Fresh love may be wild, rushing a vagrant course,
sloshing over edges, straying from its source.
But as it is a river, it will resume its banks
and flow us down together, with our deepest thanks.
Prompts today are brackish, hybrid, jubilant, induct, and condition.
Click on photos to enlarge and view as slide series.
Uptight and Out of It
What is the impetus for his lack of wonderment—
head in a fog and perpetual blunderment—
his chronic air of irascible pique
that it’s so tempting to give a slight tweak?
You might accredit it to his upbringing—
too much instruction and not enough singing.
Spouting out facts with their meanings unclear.
Excess cod liver oil and too little beer.
We have a solution if he’d only try
to unstick his head lodged way up in the sky.
A little less ponder and a little more gin
might just overcome the state that he’s in.
Prompts for the day are: impetus, irascible, wonderment, accredit and head in the clouds.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 